Illicit

CHAPTER SIX

Drew had been downstairs eating breakfast. To his surprise, Kalani was exiting her room just as he was going to his.

Oh, the timing.

Quickly, her hand wiped her face again for any new tears. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her new interest.

"Looks like you had a fun night," his accent rang through her ears, sending a shiver down her spine as she recalled some of her thoughts from the night prior. He had been taunting her.

Of course, the idea that Kalani did give in to the Irishman upset him. If anything, that's what his words tried to avoid but he is continuing to watch his new interest follow the same path he had.

He could tell she had been trying to run off before her former lover would wake up, and being the nice guy that he is, he spoke again, "Room 312" and handed her the second coffee.

Kalani followed the signs on the walls leading to the room with Drew behind her. The taller man opened the door for the smaller woman, instructing her to set her stuff down. He slipped past her, casually gliding his hand across her back though it remained engrained in her mind for long after the contact had disappeared.

The larger man had taken a seat on the edge of the bed in the same spot Conor had been the night prior. Kalani almost couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

Kalani followed him to his patting hand next to him, motioning for her to sit; another irony seeing as she wouldn't sit next to Conor the night prior.

"You're a mess, Kalani," Drew spoke, making her scoff.

"Wow," she began, "thank you so much, that really means a lot."

She normally appreciated Drew's direct way with words, however she did not like being analyzed like an object. She had already been the night prior, on the elevator. The fact that Drew had been so accurate in assuming her feelings made a cloud of guilt roll over her.

Drew watched Kalani as she ran a hand through her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed, seemingly trying to hold herself together as her bottom lip quivered.

"You know, Kalani," his accent started again after a moment of silence. Blue eyes full of concern looked towards hers, for once showing vulnerability that had usually been disguised with strength. "You don't have to be strong all of the time."

"What, so you can tell me I'm crazy and it's endangering my coworkers?" she snapped towards him, mentioning the fight Nattie and Ronda had with the Scot many moons ago.

"No, Kalani," he stood, beginning to pace the room. Drew had been growing frustrated at Kalani's inability to open up on what's going on in her head. Perhaps they were both too stubborn for their own good. Hands on his hips, Drew turned back towards the girl and spoke, "I've been exactly where you are. I know the pain you've been feeling for months! You have too much potential to let yourself wither away because of a guy who didn't deserve you."

Kalani was shocked to say the least.

Drew, on the other hand, wanted to say so much more. He wanted her to know how from the moment he met her, he was willing to throw everything away. He would quit his dream job to spend more time with her if he needed to; Drew McIntyre would sell his soul to the devil for a girl like Kalani Hanifan.

How could he tell her that, though?

A call rang through the room, coming from Kalani's phone. The two halted, 4 blue orbs staring at one another as tensions grew higher. They both knew it was Conor without needing to check.

"You should answer that," Drew spoke, brushing off his anger and frustration. Grabbing his bags, he set his key card on the counter and continued, "just turn it in when you go to leave."

Before Kalani had another chance to speak, Drew was gone, throwing guilt onto the girl he left behind.

She wasn't sure why she felt at fault—Drew was hardly a close friend so why would he ever be disappointed?

Drew McIntyre felt the same way as he walked through that hallway.

The former fighter's shaky hands picked up her phone because she had nothing left. "Hey, Conor," she said, unsteadily.

"What the hell, Kalani? You left without saying goodbye?" his Irish accent roared through her ear.

She stuttered a bit, trying to come up with the words to say to fill the void she felt between them. However, there was no words left. So, Kalani Hanifan resorted to what she was good at: lying.

"I had an early interview, I didn't want to wake you," she croaked, hoping the haziness over the phone would cover her transparency with a man who could see through her mannerisms.

"Bullshit," he saw through. "Don't fucking lie to me, not now."

Seeing as Kalani remained silent, the two of them knew he was right.

"Ronda told me you had been around Drew—she told me he's manipulative and cruel, Kalani. I thought you knew better than to fall for him," Conor began to accuse his former lover.

"Conor, slow down," Kalani furrowed her eyebrows. "This has nothing to do with Drew—why the fuck is Ronda even talking to you about him?"

"He seems to know a whole lot about our relationship seeing as you promised Ronda you'd stay away from him," he answered.

Kalani sighed. "It's not hard to know what happened, Conor. The internet found out before I fucking did!" she roared, feeling tears once again.

She hated that it still hurt her, but there are some things that you will never fully recover from.

"You can't keep holding that over me, Kalani, that's not fair," Conor whined.

"And you can't control what I do with my life now that you're not a part of it!" she snapped back, not allowing Conor to step on her anymore.

For a while, they were silent, only heavy breaths on the other side. The two both registered what Kalani had said, completely shocked and hurt.

The brunette began to panic, tears welling up in her eyes. "Kalani, please don't," she heard him beg.

"Conor," she interrupted. "We're too far gone. All were every going to do is hurt each other."

Kalani felt like a grenade. Just like she just had, she would explode again some day and hurt someone else she loved. Kalani had been hurt too many times to allow it to happen to her once again. Wiping a single tear left on her face, she croaked one last thing.

"Goodbye, Conor."

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